Angels Can't Die
by Aeris Aimara Ciren
Summary: "Remember, an easy question can have an easy answer. But a hard question must have a hard answer. And for the hardest questions of all, there may be no answer - except faith." Charles Sheffield , Brother to Dragons. A fateful trip to Boston is the beginning of a journey into love and peril and survival for all embroiled in the cusp of the turn.
1. Chapter 1: Liberating An Angel

**A/N: I hope everyone likes this new story. I've fallen in love with The Boondock Saints and The Walking Dead crossovers. I have a lot planned for this one. I'm looking forward to what ya'll think.**

 **Well . . . here's the first chapter.**

She wouldn't ever complain about the cold in Georgia, ever again. Teeth chattering as she shivered against a particularly cool wind, she was glad to be free of all the people in her shopping group out that afternoon. They had found a lot of things to take home, even got some stuff for Christmas for her sister and brother and some people in the church.

The bells from the large Gothic cathedral across the street tolled for the hour of 4 or 5, her attention was elsewhere. It was getting late and she didn't want to go back in just yet.

Watching the other shops across the street by the cathedral, she saw some of her friends leaving a shop and wave to her. Leaning against the building, her arms wound around herself and she took in how old the city felt. Boston, Massachusetts was filled with a long, rich history. She wondered if she could take a tour of Boston University and the Irish influenced areas of the city, get a feel for her Father's people. Her people.

"Maybe Mama will let me. Bring Maggie along. She's been talking about trying to go back to school," she murmured to herself as she pushed off the wall. She pulled the thin cardigan around her tighter and made to go back to the group, which was heading back toward the hotel down the street.

Sweat dampened hands gripped her arm and pulled her in the shadows of the alley just before the hotel. She caught sight of some men waiting for her friends, the other girls in the group, that had been coming to meet her on the walk back to the hotel. She tried to scream and warn them to run, but one of the dirty hands holding her in place came up to cover her mouth, anticipating her reaction with an amused and sarcastic, "Sorry girly. We can't have you doing that now."

"L-let me go!" was all she was able to get out before her words were cut off.

What self-defense training she had (classes taken at the insistence of her father as part of the agreement to let her go on the trip with the Church group) was forgotten. Fear took over, crawling up through her like the hand on her arm moved to grip her more tightly across the waist. To keep her arms down and prevent her from twisting away with her struggling.

One girl ran down the sidewalk, trying to get away, her scream for help cut short as she was caught and slammed into a wall. The man growled and grumbled to himself about the incompetency of his fellows. There were only four women. How hard was it to keep four bitches quiet? Much wasn't missed by him, except for the door of the cathedral opening across from the alley as his back turned and he watched his men drag the other women into the darkness the fast setting sun was providing.

Such movements were not missed under the eyes of those who care. Stepping out of the cathedral, one of two men noticed a flash of light from the corner of his eyes. He looked up from lighting his cigarette just in time to see a flailing arm being pulled out of the light of the streets and into the into bleakness of the alleyway across from them. He nudged the man next to him with an elbow, tilting his head in the general direction. As one, they moved.

"Now wha'er we doing, brother?" One thick voice, laced with an Irish brogue spoke, curious, but not really questioning. He had no reason not to follow, regardless of where the other was taking him.

"Saving a couple of wee lasses," the first answered with an equally thick brogue, adrenaline already spiking through his blood, anticipating the likely fight to come. "A princess and all 'er ladies, perhaps."

Grinning, the other man walked forward, taking the lead as they crossed the street, "A coupla regular knights in shinin' armor 'nd all that shite, aren't we?"

"Aye. We are."

At the opposite end of an alley sat a nondescript white van, ready to transport their next set of deliveries. The bitches would pay well. Young enough to be trained by whoever bought them, pretty enough to be bought for a high price. Him and his boys, they'd be living nicely for a while. He sat leaning against the door of the van with the blonde sitting tied at his feet. That bitch was his and he wanted her put in last so she could be dragged out first. The rest were being hastily bound and loaded up.

He checked the time on his watch before pulling another drag from his cigarette and yelling, "Hurry up, boys. You're ten seconds behind." The grime on his face didn't do much to hide the ugly sneer on his lips.

The two crossed the street and entered the alleyway at a casual, if slightly fast, pace, taking in the scene in less than a second. They separated the first girl, who was just being shoved against a wall to have her hands bound behind her, from the man doing the binding. He was beaten in a quick series of blows the brothers couldn't really enjoy. Just a simple hair grab by one while the other kicked him in the ribs hard enough to break something before he was dropped to ground and a final kick made to the head to knock him out.

They didn't have time to do anything more fun. There was a whole alley between them and the van where the other girls were being pulled. The less noise the better. Less chance of the assholes being able to run.

They moved onto the next man, mentally noting the other three men loading the two of the women into the van (where still more women already were) while another one was trussed up at the feat of some fucker smoking against the side of the van. He was the obvious leader, so of course they would save his judgement for last. Sneering and exchanging a glance, they kept moving. Their years from scrapping in the roads of Ireland, and later fighting to pay their way to the US, made them quite a team when it came to small spaces and multiple opponents.

With twists and punches they brought down a third man, two well placed hits in the solar plexus took him to the ground. By then, they'd been noticed. The men didn't cry out or yell. They knew they were at more risk of being seen (and later identified) if the cops got called on the mess their pick up had become. The brothers counted on it to keep things quiet.

The two had to duck for a second as the remaining two henchmen went after them with a pipe and some weird staff thing. Both being swung at them like makeshift baseball bats. Brute force over kill.

Eyebrows reaching his hairline, one brother looked to the other, before they snickered. The first tossed a question to the second, "Ist, dass ein... stock, bruder?"

"Ja, ich denke, es ist." The other answered and the two laughed even harder before focusing on their opponents again. Both of whom stood there looking at them, obviously confused and thrown off by the unexpected German.

Pissed at how long it was taking and the two stopping, the man with the cigarette yelled, "Move your asses. Stanno cavalcando shetlands, ha colpito basso!" His voice carried across the alley, Italian accent thick with anger and some shame at the showing his men were giving to a couple of skinny assholes.

Snapped back into the fray with the order, one of the thugs grazed Murphy in the shoulder before Connor came barreling down on him. The man got knocked into the brick of the building behind them. Murphy grinned and dodged another wing from the other thug, pushing him over the second of the fallen bruisers to send him flying on his ass.

The brothers' eyes met and they grinned as the Italian accent flew through their ears. Boss man yelling and cursing up a storm as he finally joined in, "Oh! Voi stroga stupidi! Devo fare tutto da solo?"

The shouts of the kidnapped women already in the van over-road the last of the Italian's words in Beth's ears. The sounds of the fighting had scared them all as they sat huddled in a group of six. Some Beth had been with and a few she didn't know based on numbers alone. They were crouched together, whimpering in the darkness of the vehicle, eyes covered, wrists and ankles bound. Beth moved amidst the women, trying to shush them and tell them it would be fine. That she was going to untie them so they could get away. She couldn't see what was going on beyond the van, the sun had set sometime during the fight and the alley wasn't well lit. She didn't know if their would-be saviors were winning or not and she feared the sounds of whimpering would draw the men's attentions back toward them.

Beth had managed to get her gag off and hands out of her restraints when the man standing next to her smoking had joined the fight. He'd thought her cowed, and she was. Mostly. Right up until she realized that with him distracted she had a chance to help the others. She was in the van when she heard the first gunshot and her head snapped up. A matched set of storm-grey blue eyes from two faces met hers as she watched the man, the one who'd been smoking, get dragged into the dark beyond her sight. His gun already forced from his hand by strong fingers on his wrist.

Later, she'd pinpoint that moment as the point when her life changed completely. At the time though, all she could feel was lightheaded. The sheer weight of the situation, the details of what was going on, rushed in on her and her focus was broken. The help she'd been trying to give went undone as her body gave out on her and she fainted.

The other women heard the Italian beg for his life and the soft sound of two clicks echoing each other as his words ended abruptly. But not Beth. Shock had set in and she was catatonic while the two brothers made their way to the van. The other women still bound, blindfolded, whimpering. Her body laying on the garbage covered ground in front of it. She'd clearly rolled off when she clocked out.

The two men knew the horrors they just saved the young women from. It wasn't a lead they'd ever gotten much info on, human trafficking. But they knew of it. Had seen the results before. It was by the grace of God they'd been there to stop it this time.

The two crossed themselves before making their way back through the alley to ensure all the men were dead and the other girls were safe. They'd get back to the van after the prayers were said.

A/N:

German exchange: "Is that a... stick, brother?" , "Aye, I think it is."

First Italian statement: "They're riding shetlands, hit low!"

Second Italian statement: "You fucks! Must I do everything myself?"


	2. Chapter 2: Lightning Strikes

Chapter 2 - Lightning Strikes

"How you be, lass?" Connor frowned in concern, looking down at the blonde girl that had gotten herself mostly free. And then fainted. That she'd come around was a good thing. She was the only one whose eyes were uncovered, as they hadn't gotten to the point of freeing the others from their bonds, and she was meeting their gazes head on. Connor made a step for her and she unconsciously tilted her body back. He stopped moving as he felt his brother walk up.

Murphy walked up beside his brother, a bag filled with the dead men's things. A robbery gone wrong. He leaned into Connor, grinning and laughing as he patted the other on the shoulder, teasing him, "Isn't that just like you? Always scaring the girls off."

Connor's face scrunched up and he turned to wap his brother on the shoulder. Murphy just kept laughing, muffling the noise with a hand. Connor shot a glare, but his gaze softened as he turned back to the girl, "We'd like to help you. Get all of you free and back to where you came from. Can we do that?"

Beth sucked in a heavy breath, the panic still clutching at her chest and making it difficult to focus. To think straight. She shook her head and looked down, breaking their gazes, mouth opening but nothing coming out. Her voice cracked on the first attempt. She looked back up at the brothers, slowly taking them in, from their worn black work-boots, to the well-loved and matching black peacoats, to the nearly identical veritas and aequitas tattoo on their left index fingers, finally reaching their striking and dissimilar facial features. She felt her skin heat up at the heavy scrutiny, embarrassed at how poorly she was reacting. Even if it was perfectly understandable, she wasn't in the right frame of mind to realize that.

Beth sucked in another breath and tried again to get something out, "I - Thank you!" Her voice cracked again, this time with tears as her fear finally caught up with her. She started crying, tears rushing with a choked sob, "So much. For saving us. Them. M-me."

A mother always knew when something was wrong with her babies. Annette Greene wasn't raised no fool either. She knew something was up when all the girls, including spirited Maggie, came in somber and quiet. Some of them with dried tears tracking down their faces or were wiping snot and tears away. The other chaperones had gone down to the hotel restaurant and that left just Annette to greet the girls and figure out what was wrong.

She waited until the group had a chance to sit down, though most of them huddled together, before asking, "What's going on?"

The question was meant for all of them, but Annette aimed it at Maggie first. She was one of the oldest and one of Annette's own. But Maggie's lips thinned and pressed firm. Nothing was coping out of her. She looked at the others. Beth started to hiccup as she tried to keep the sobs at bay.

"Bethy?" Annette pleaded softly, moving to touch her baby girl's arm, "What happened?"

Looking up, Beth pulled herself deeper into her sister's side and sobbed out a choked 'momma!'

"Beth. . . Bethy," Maggie hissed low and concerned, trying to subtly hush her up without looking like that's what she was doing.

But it was Mary Cathy that cracked, not Beth, blurting out, "We were attacked. In an alley. They tried- they tried to-" She cut herself off with a sob.

"They had guns, momma," Beth sobbed.

Maggie brought her arms up to hug her sister fiercely. She looked up to meet Annette's eyes before looking down and nodding, "They didn't hurt us. Some guys, these brothers... they came in and... and..."

"They scared the men off," Beth interrupted, squeezing Maggie's side. She took a deep breath and looked up at her mother, "They started yelling fire and stuff. Caused a scene. No one else came, but the men that were trying to mug us, they ran off."

Annette's hand went to her chest. Her heart was pounding so hard and she had to sit down. It was a relief to know that they were all alright. Just scared. With good reason, of course.

"Okay," Annette said after she took a moment to catch her breath. She forced a smile that ended up being sad regardless as she looked around at the group. "Okay," was repeated, a little softer, a little firmer, and she nodded. "Okay. You're safe. You're all here and you're safe. I know it must have been terribly frightening, but you're here and you're safe. For the rest of the trip, any time you go out, you go with one of the chaperones."

She looked at Maggie, reached out to press a hand to her step-daughter's cheek, "That's nothing against you. You've done great the last week. But if people are targeting all of you in a group that big, then we're going to have one me or one of the ladies of the church out with you girls at all times."

To Maggie's credit, she didn't protest. She just gave a shallow nod before tucking her head into Beth's shoulder.

It wasn't exactly a good end to the day. But by the time the other ladies came back up from their meal, most of the girls had calmed down enough to retreat to their rooms and talk quietly among themselves. Get cleaned up. And even feel up to ordering pizza.

The ladies of their Church group were informed by Annette about what happened. What the girls had told her. Enough of the girls had never seen the other end of any sort of gun that their continued nervousness and jumpiness even among friends didn't seem too out of place. The violence that had been promised on them with the mugging was enough to cause more than a few nightmares and some difficult nights sleeping.

It was only when two friendly, smiling, Irish men with tattoos greeted the group after Wednesday morning Mass at the Church near the hotel that any of the girls showed signs of relaxing. All of them had shy smiles and blushing looks. The boys, as the girls started to affectionately refer to them, were introduced as the ones to 'scare off' the muggers. Annette and the other chaperones were, of course, very relieved to make their acquaintance. Other than the tattoos and smoking, the two were the picture of good, deeply religious, men.

After that first meeting, the boys became a regular feature around the hotel rooms for the rest of the week. The ladies of the church group tittered and giggled at the sounds of their Irish lilt and melted as the brothers spoke in a half dozen languages they didn't know. Mostly inside jokes between themselves, but sometimes conversations about the state of the girls and one blonde haired, blue-eyed girl, in particular.

The ladies of the Church were, at their heart, a group of gossiping old biddies who had nothing better to do with their time. And no real drive to, either. They loved the girls, in their own way, and they were of course, very concerned about the attempted robbery. But with everything having been averted for the better, they didn't see what a lot of the continued fuss the girls were putting on about was for. With the girls needing fully-adult chaperones at all times now; enforced by Annette, the younger members of the group got to be exposed to the casual gossip.

The only time it didn't happen was when one of the Greene girls weren't around. The'd check inconspicuously to make sure the coast was clear and then start tittering away with underhanded and snide remarks. Mostly having to do with Maggie's history of sneaking off at all hours and being brought home in the back of a police cruiser. Which then led to speculation on if it ran in the family on Hershel's side because of all the drinking he'd done when Maggie's mother had passed. The man had gotten himself into quite some trouble, including time in the drunk tank, during that time of his life. Perhaps Maggie had learned it from him? She was only five when Josephine was taken by cancer.

Annette ran the farm at that time, having come in to help take care of her cousin and her family while Josephine's health deteriorated. Hershel's drinking continued for close to a year after his wife's death and Maggie was a terror at school. Both stopped quite suspiciously around the same time that Hershel started coming to church with Annette on his arm.

She had come to church every Sunday since arriving. Her and her little boy, Shawn. Freshly divorced at the time and largely looked down on for that choice by the locals. She'd fast become a topic of gossip and though she did call many of the Church ladies friends, they were mostly just social acquaintances that fed on whatever juicy bits of drama they could sink their teeth into.

Gossip about Annette had died down during the year. It started right back up when she came in with Hershel, smiling shyly. Shawn and Maggie behind them. Speculation started right up about how long the two had been together and if Annette had been angling to get with Hershel since she got to town. All kinds of mean-spirited words that if they were ever confronted about, they'd just laugh off as 'harmless' because obviously there wasn't a lick of truth to it.

It was Mary Cathy, the blabbermouth of the group, that told Beth and Maggie – and the boys by extension; as they had volunteered to watch over the girls for the last afternoon the group was in town – about what the other ladies were saying about their family. Beth had become a target of the gossip. She'd always been the 'good girl', the good daughter, in the eyes of the Church ladies. A perfectly lovely example of how to be a proper young lady. Right up until the ladies noticed how the boys would stand to either side of her and let her walk with an arm in each of theirs while the rest of the girls fanned out around them. Like she was a 'little queen bee' who 'thought better of herself than everyone around her' – it was the words of the ladies, not Mary Cathy's. Though we all know by now, how Mary Cathy's tongue likes to wiggle and wag.

The boys' foreign language conversations got far more insulting after that. They smiled all through it, but when they dropped the girls off at their hotel room for the last time, they made sure to politely kiss each and every old lady's hand while spouting obscenities that rolled off their tongues and sparkled like stardust. Beautiful sounding, but terribly cutting if any of the women had been able to understand a lick of it. Although, Annette Greene was still no fool and while their lips met her hand, she laughed. Understanding the biting tones of their voices, uncomprehending the actual words they spoke. For the young ladies themselves, the boys were actually polite.

And they came to her last, into Beth's hands they slipped a piece of paper with some very comforting words: a couple prayers for safety in travel and a phone number to a bar called McGinty's and the address for the bar too, in case she was ever in town again. Beth, in turn, slipped them a piece of paper with the address to a small farm in the Georgia countryside. It came with a thank you note signed by her mother and an invitation to write as often as they liked. The gossips of the church be damned. The two had earned Annette's trust.


	3. Chapter 3: Pushing the Limits

**A/N:** **Hey my favorite readers. Well the hiatus is over and we're back to updating the story. So three cheers for us? If not, we understand. Life happens. WHat can we do other than roll with it?**

 **Well, without further adieu Oleander and I hope you enjoy this new chapter! See ya next time!**

 _ **~~*~~ACD~~*~~**_

Maggie and Annette knew these boys would mean something to Beth, they just had to give her time. Something about their little songbird had them fascinated. Annette grinned to herself merrily. Happy to see her baby was going to be alright. WIth that thought, she turned her gaze to her eldest. Maggie wasn't facing this, choosing to ignore it and pretend like it never happened. Something had to be done.

The eldest greene sibling sat in the lobby downstairs, curled in a comfy chair with a book overturned in her lap. It had been several days since the 'mugging' and they would be leaving this godforsaken city. She would not miss it for one moment. That she was sure of. The stores they had sure were cute, but that was all. It wasn't worth her life or safety. Nor that of her other mama and baby sister.

She was eager to get back to the safety and comfort of the farm and her daddy's arms. Boston was fast and loud, busy. Bigger than Atlanta. That city she didn't mind. But Boston? She was never coming back again.

So lost in her thoughts and staring blankly down at the book she didn't notice much. Especially two brothers walking up to her, friendly smiles on their faces for the older sister of the girl they were so fond of. "Aye, lass, what're you doing out here all by your lonesome?"

"I needed time to myself. They were too much. It's all too much." Her voice caught on the last word. She saw a flash in their eyes before she looked back down. Her fingers picked up a nervous tapping on her legs, which were tucked under her as she heard the rustle of fabric and then distinct two sighs.

Mama Greene sat at the edge of the bed her girls shared in their room watching her youngest dither around in a hurry. Ahh, to be young again. She smiled fondly before she laughed.

"Bethy. . ." She wasn't going to try to get the harried blonde's attention for a few more minutes yet.

"Mama. What am I doing?" Giving up on running around in a daze, Beth plopped herself down by her mother and groaned, rubbing her eyes.

Laughing some more, Annette just gathered Beth up and hugged her, rubbing her back a little. "It'll be fine Bethy. Just relax and breathe, baby girl."

To their character, the brothers cared for the well being of most females. At least the ones in distress. One day, it may be the end of them, for now. . . they were okay. They think. Just a few tears were coming from the corners of Maggie's eyes and silently tracking down her face.

"You're still here, girl. You're okay."

"It's not much now, but it'll mean something more later."

"We stopped those men, and no one is going to lay a hand on you while you're here. We'll take care of the fellows here. You can take care of the ones at home." They both leaned forward, elbows on their knees.

She laughed quietly, breath catching for a minute. "Thank you boys." She picked up the book and stood. "C'mon. Bethy's waiting for the two of ya." Heading to the elevator, she didn't even check to see if the boys were following her.

They were. She couldn't help smirking, just a bit.

Maggie Greene couldn't believe in her 23 and a half years that she was the only woman from her church group not entirely under the two boys' spell. She watched them, in the week they interacted with the ladies, both young and old, from the church. Her mama and sister included. Though Annette Greene was a special breed of woman as she tried to raise her own little one as well as her cousin's child, she was still very much enraptured with the two. Maggie assumed she'd be less so if Beth herself was a day younger than her almost 18 years (a month to go for that hallmark), there'd be a lot more uproar considering 'The Boys' were older than Maggie by a couple years and made no effort to hide it.

She watched as they charmed the old biddies and regarded them differently compared to the younger ladies. The older women with a bit of distain for some of the gossip they caught flying and with near perfect manners for the girls. Those girls were between 7 and 19. Some Maggie herself helped raise and the others she grew up with. She knew all of them well and the boys had them eating out of their tattoo ridden hands. From shy smiles to tittering giggles to tomato red blushes. It took nothing more than a few words in Gaelic and a smile to get any of them going.

She watched how they interacted with Annette, her Step-Mama. Hell for for all intents and purposes her only mama. Them treating her with the utmost in respect. Seemed to know Annette Greene was no fool. Seemed to know Maggie wasn't one, either, as they tried their best to charm her without blowing smoke in her eyes.

But it was their affect on Beth that was the most telling. She was near inconsolable the first day or so after the 'mugging'. Nothing and no one was breaking the morose tears and somber looks until they knocked on the door and she heard them asking for her. Well, they asked after all the girls, but it was Beth their eyes kept going back to. Like a couple of birds fascinated with something shiny.

Of the group, Beth was the only one that hadn't been fully blindfolded before everything went down. She'd told Maggie she passed out and didn't see everything, but Maggie knew she'd seen something she couldn't face. The Boys did, too. It was in how they spoke to her, how they asked both Annette and Maggie permission to take her out to Church with them. They were very religious.

It was only Beth's clear easing of tension when they sat flanking her that convinced the two to say yes. To let Beth leave with them if she wanted to. Hours later, when she returned, there was a gentle smile on her face and a little bit of the light that used to shine so brightly returned to her eyes.

So it was no surprise on that final day in town, when the boys escorted all the girls out for one last morning on the town, Beth asked to spend the afternoon with them as well.

Murphy looked down to his favorite little blonde and smiled, tucking her into his side for a hug. Connor came to her other side and copied Murphy. Their actions were simultaneous and a direct reflection of each other. She wound her arms around their waists and squeezed, taking in their scents.

"Hi boys. So . . . Are you ready?" She looked at the two of them expectantly.

They both looked down at the young woman between them, both sharing similar looks of mischief that she didn't catch. "Ready for what?"

"You know!"

"No we don't. Enlighten us." Now the shared looks were sly.

There was a small frown on her dainty brows and she looked from one face to the other. "Then what are we doing?"

They really did try to keep a straight face she when was furiously looking back and forth between the two of them. By that point, though, they were out of the hotel and down the sidewalk, "You see when we get there."

"Hope you rested well, lass. We got a busy afternoon planned."

"Aye. This'll be the Boston experience for ya."

They both grinned and her face mirrored theirs. A happy skip in her step as they walked to the end of the street and a khaki colored car.

It wasn't that Beth didn't trust the two - she trusted them with her life without giving it a second thought - but she was also stuck in the backseat of car that smelled like cigarettes and bad Italian food while the boys drove them to a part of town far enough from the hotel she wasn't going to be able to find her way back. She looked out the window over Connor's shoulder and tried to recognize the passing scenery from the photos they'd all been shown before the trip and got next to nothing. "So where are you taking me?"

"We'll be there in a few minutes, dolcezza." The boys looked at each other, for someone like her, it was hard to find a nickname, a term of endearment that suited well. They had spent days dreaming up and debating between them in every language they knew. This one fit. For now. They were sweet on her and the day would show it.

"Sind Sie bereit, Bruder?"

"Ja."

Their eyes met again as the car came to a stop and Connor stepped out first. He looked around out of habit before reaching his hand in and pulling Beth out. Murphy followed after them, taking her free hand in his own.

Beth took in the early morning light and the openness of the area around her as she stepped onto the pavement. She smiled and met first Connor then Murphy's gazes. "Is this what we're doing?"

Murphy just laughed and squeezed her hand, leading them on, "No lass. We're just getting started."

Connor jumped into the conversation, a smirk on his lips. "Told you, we have the whole afternoon with you planned."

Her excitement was palpable and she was ready to get this thing started, "Come on then. Let's goooo!" She dragged them down the street by their elbows, trying to figure out which store or small event they were there for. Her attention was easily divided between them and the passing scenery as other couples were milling about in the little shops around them or sitting in outdoor cafés in the early morning. All of them were the same and just enjoying themselves. "So what are we doing? Connor? Murphy?"

One of them spoke and their elbows moved the grip her hands, each brother holding one. She just giggled again. Beth Greene was the happiest she felt in a long time.

"We're gunna be the first to find the Keytar Bear," Connor announced like it was the most important quest in the world.

"The what?" Her brow was furrowed in curiosity on who or what that was.

The boys just shook their heads and lead her on down the street. "You'll see, girl."

An hour passed quickly as they stopped at shops and moved through one block after the other. Their search for the keytar playing bear was the furthest thing from her mind as they spent the time amongst the three of them. Until they decided to cut through a well-lit alley and go to the next street over. Tucked in against the fence was a man dressed in a bear costume and the synthetic sound coming from the keyboard strapped to his hip was pretty catchy. Excited and finally understanding, Beth grabbed their hands and they willingly let themselves be dragged by their energetic girl. The bear's song ended and he was taking a breather when the trio came upon him.

Seeing the excitement in her eyes he leaned back up a put his furry paws back on the keytar and began to play once more. He was bobbing along to the beat his fingers were creating along the keyboard. He glanced up to peek at the woman and grinned, playing a catchier tune, easy to dance too. His bobbing involved some weaving as he followed her lead and began to dance to the new song.

The boys' grins matched the masked Keytar player's as they enjoyed the sweet young woman dancing. When the song drew to a close, they reached out to catch her hands once again. But she jumped past them to get to the player's little stage and dropped a five in a black bowl hat that lie at his feet.

She came bouncing back to them, all smiles and sunshine, "That was so much fun! We should look for him again later!"

They tucked her hands in to theirs and led her off with a wave back towards the bear. "C'mon lass." One said, and the other finished: "We got other places to go."

More sightseeing was done and she pulled her camera up to snap away at both the scenery and the boys. She did her best to try and catch them in casual moments, though some of their poses were pretty inspirational and had her laughing behind the lens.

Eventually she saw something behind the boys as they stopped at a little kiosk cart and were looking at weird totem knickknacks. She snapped a quick picture and once again, was off. They noticed her walking away from them and had to set the little wood figurines they were fighting each other with with down to follow after her. Her curiosity incited their own.

Tucked away in the beginning of another alley, this one not to open and welcoming as the one the Keytar Bear had been set up in, was a high arched fence with the words 'St. Valentine'. It stood tall and was cluttered with roses and saints. Given the nature of the little shop, it seemed the perfect setting.

The boys stopped for a moment to take in the spine-tingling view of the arch before they continued after their favorite blonde.

"Beth!"

"Wait up lass!" They booked it after her, laughter in their eyes and voices.

"Hurry up you two! You won't believe this!" Her voice called out to them.

They stepped through the door and were startled by the sight of nothing but saints. They lined every wall and shelf of the little hidden shop. From the peripheral of his vision Connor saw a flip of a flaxen hair turning around the corner that he had no qualms about following.

Beth, however, peeked around a shelf behind the man and watched Connor walk away from her. She stood there with her hand over her mouth trying not to let her giggles erupt. As she felt herself calm down her hand slid from her mouth and landed hard against something on a lower shelf. Flinching back at the momentary burst of pain she, looked to where her hand hit and grinned at a group of saint figurines.

She had just grabbed two when Murphy came up beside her, "What're you doing, lass?"

She hid the figurines quickly and stood to face him, "Playing with Connor. I thought he took off that way." She pointed with her free hand in the direction he went.

"Shall we go see what trouble he's up to?" He held out his arm for her. Which she promptly took with a happy nod. They really did try to be quiet, but as they got closer to the other brother something came to Murphy. He noticed that Connor was following a blonde girl who looked strongly of Beth from behind.

"It's a girl, Murph," Beth said, an edge to her voice that Murphy caught and recognized as hurt. One she probably didn't realize she was feeling from the way her brows drew down across her forehead in confusion.

"She looks like you, from behind." His lips twitched with the rather pleasant idea that she was jealous his brother's attention had mistakenly fallen to someone else. Not that it really had. He truly believed he was tracking their girl.

She pressed her lips together and dragged Murphy by his hand, her grip tight and not letting up. Connor had no clue what happened, right after, but that small woman was stronger than she looked as he was spun around to face the girl he'd thought he'd been following. Murphy stood to her side, chuckling to himself at the dumbfounded look on his brother's face.

Connor clapped Murph on the back and smacked him upside the head. "It ain't that funny."

Tears had leaked out of his eyes but he flinched when Con's hand hit the back of his head. "Oy! It was too!"

It was on as Murph hit his brother back. They were going at it with no reprieve when the click of heels barely registered in their ears amongst the sounds of their smacks and the occasional sounds of 'hey' and 'quit that'.

They stopped as a harder and unfamiliar smack hit both their heads. Beth's foot was tapping as she tried to fight the smile from spreading on her face, "Are you two done? I'm ready to leave."

Just after leaving the store, while they were still inside the little grassy area of the arch that led to the sidewalk, she turned to them hand each a little figurine. To Connor went the figurine of St. Zachary the Patron of Peace. And To Murphy she gave the figurine of St. George the Patron of Soldiers.

They both looked down to the small Saint figurines in their hands, before looking back up at her. She watched them with a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. The warmth and sincerity in their thanks and the hugs that followed making her stomach flutter.

It was getting late in the afternoon by then and and Murphy patted his stomach, "Time to feed some monsters, eh?"

"Yes! Where we going for lunch? I'm so hungry I can eat a horse. Though not a real horse. I think Nelly would know if I ate one of her kin; she'd never forgive me," Beth laughed and tucked her arms once more into their elbows. The day had gone quite well so far and a final meal with them would be the perfect ending to it.

They left her at the door to the hotel suite she shared with the others. Each man placed a sweet kiss on her cheek and a hug to tide her over until the next day.

"You be getting some sleep now, lass. Flight tomorrow'll be long," Connor murmured so they wouldn't draw the attention of those inside.

"You both are coming to see us off right?" She stood before them, wringing her hands in agitation. She couldn't imagine not seeing the boys one final time before leaving. They assured her they would and waited until she was inside before heading back home.

She went inside and said hello to everyone. Told her mama and Maggie what had happened: That the boys had taken her to a couple shops and an early dinner. She'd been brought back before dark, as promised, so there wasn't much worry on their faces. Maggie's to an extent, but Beth had always felt Maggie was little overprotective when she didn't need to be. The boys had been with her, she was safe with them. Nothing to worry about. The idea that Maggie might be worried about the boys never crossed her mind.

She went to put her bag down on the bed and dig the change out of her pocket when she felt something odd inside. It had a slightly sharp edge and felt about as long as her fingers. She pulled it out and found a figurine similar to the ones she'd given the boys. Looking over the beautiful handcrafted woman she checked the bottom: Lady St. Thérèse of Lisiuex, Patron of Missions.

Beth smiled to herself and tucked it into her purse.

Rocco waited outside their apartment for the boys to return his car. When they'd asked to borrow it for the day, he hadn't been upset about letting them, but he had been worried because he hadn't heard from them for close to a week prior to that. It was weird. They'd never acted like that before, even with the whole Saints thing they were running. The fact it put a damper on their activities as vigilantes didn't help his mood. He wanted to get out there and kill some more assholes. The list wasn't going to dry up any time soon.

When they finally pulled in just around sunset, Roc was pacing, agitated.

"What's the matter, Roc," Connor asked as they climbed out. Murphy finishing with, "Something happen while we were out?"

"No," Rocco answered. "Just you two been off who knows where for the last few days while I've been sitting here on a motherfucking payload of names we could be ridding the world of and neither of you will tell me what's so fucking important that you had to stop."

Murphy shared a smile with Connor and Connor walked over to clap a hand on Roc's shoulder, "Has it really been getting to you that much?"

"It was just religious observations," Murphy chimed in and waved the little saint figure he'd been given in Rocco's face before tucking it away safely.

"Religious observations? You couldn't fucking tell me that before?"

"Well, we didn't want you to get upset," Murphy said, walking backwards to their current shared home. "You've never been the sort to get really into Church and all that."

"Yeah, Rocco, and we been going every day," Connor added on. "Been seeing a real saint."

"Aye, a pretty one at that," Murphy grinned before Connor caught his ear with a slap, "Shut the fuck up."

Rocco was pretty dumb, but not that dumb. He shot his best friends a look and spread his arms in disbelief, "You've been ditching me for a fucking girl?"

"Hey!" Connor snapped, suddenly much more serious. "You don't fucking talk about her like that. She's not a 'fucking girl'."

"Yeah!" Murphy joined in, "She's a fucking lady! Show some fucking respect, Rocco."

The two erupted into laughter as Roc shouted back, "Fuck you guys!"

Their friend didn't need to know the details. If this panned out the way they hoped it would, they'd eventually introduce him to her. But only after other obligations were taken care of. She didn't need to be involved with their Holy calling. Once it was done with, they'd see about moving south.

Translations

"Sind Sie bereit, Bruder?" - "Are you ready, brother?"

"Ja." - "Yes."


End file.
